Menu

I haven’t been that far away, just had to take a step back for a little while.

I’m back but on slightly different terms.

My blog, my rules right?

Not So Skinny Genes is getting ramped up for the New Year, and with it, a whole new slew of goals. A repeat goal this year is the Navy Sprint Triathlon in the spring.

I can honestly and proudly say I was in the best physical shape of my life leading up to last June 1st and my subsequent 30th birthday that week. Unfortunately, things took a turn for the lazy following my successful Sprint Tri and I have been struggling to regain that drive that got me there and to drop the pounds and inches that accumulated since as a result of my apathetic feelings towards my nutrition and fitness regimen.

That’s where you come in. You’ve been cordially invited to join me on my journey to get my so-called ‘groove’ back. And what better a time to start a fitness and healthy eating plan than the week leading up to Christmas vacation!? You laugh, but at least this way I’ll be ahead of the gaggle of food coma “Resolutioneers” – yes I just made that term up – come January 1st.

Read and follow if you like. Leave some wisdom/support in the comments. Share with your friends. Or feel free to join in on the fun and tell me what you’re doing to jump start your own goals (fitness or non-fitness related).

Friendship is a funny thing. One of my favourite quotes is by C.S. Lewis: “Friendship is born at that moment when one man says to another: “What! You too?”

It’s simplistic, but true. Finding the best (or worst) part of yourself mirrored in someone else makes you feel whole, complete and less of a freak show.

I’ve always had an interesting relationship with friendship. I remember very early on being quite hurt by a best friend who refused to invite me out along with the others, for a reason that I’ve long since forgotten. At the time my mom told me that I should never put my eggs all in one basket and allow myself to be hurt by the whims of adolescents. Despite what popular culture told me, the young girl to believe, it wasn’t ideal to have just one best friend.

Is there anyone out there who can provide some scientific proof of a direct correlation between the amount of effort one makes to the level of happiness one feels?

I feel there there must be something definitive out there on this.

When I have a productive day at work, home, gym, out-and-about… and I stop and think about how I feel in that moment, I find it hard not to feel a sense of overwhelming pride and happiness.

Today I kicked butt (some days my trainer kicked it… but you know what I mean).

I did all my dishes, 3 loads of laundry, got groceries, killed it at a meeting, did 45 pushups, and watched an episode of Game of Thrones while making paper flower fascinators…

I’m pushing for more responsibility (and respect) at work right now, and while the jury is still out on how that is going to work out, I feel like riding this wave of positivity and creativity for as long as I can.

Bad things happen.

I know this to be true.

Last month was a hideously awful reminder of how crappy things can get and how powerless you can feel to change them. But that’s in the past. There’s always a silver lining… it might just not be on the cloud you are standing under but the next one on the horizon.

So well in fact that I’ve been able to work on some projects that make me happy. DIY decorating/organization projects, fitness training (for the Navy Sprint Triathlon in June), playing maid in two weddings for two very special brides, and financial planning.

My foray into adulthood has proven pretty fruitful and I couldn’t be happier with whom I’ve chosen to walk down this path. In the spirit of financial responsibility we’ve decided to forego our original plans to find a two bedroom apartment and instead cohabitate in my current one bedroom for as long as manageable. Doing so will drastically cut both of our expenses which is a welcomed added benefit of getting to finally live in the same place as your SO.

Making a one bedroom feel big for one person (and a cat) isn’t too hard… making it not feel tiny with two people (and a cat) will be a challenge.

Like any other couple knows, moving in together isn’t always straightforward.

Whose dishes will we use?
Whose coffee table is nicer?
Whose name is going to go on the bills?
Where are we going to put all the extra stuff?
Where are we going to store everything else?

Since I’m the Pinterest obsessed planner/list maker/organizer/spreadsheet connoisseur (and I’m NOT the one writing exams), I’ve taken on the task of planning how this process will go down.

The girl with the impossibly perky bum on the elliptical in front of me at the gym.

She’s hardly working as I’m working hard to keep the sweat out of my eyes. How is that fair? Regardless… I keep on climbing those imaginary stairs.

The number in red on my bank account/credit card statement.

Each paycheque may disappear as soon as it registers in my account, but I know that with each one I am “this” much closer to financial freedom.

Wedding invitations.

That point in my life where all my closest girl friends and their beaux are making it official. Since I’m so happily attached myself and in no rush to rush things I’m feeling fantastic about reaching milestones at our own pace – like cohabitation.

Pinterest.

Speaking of cohabitation. In the spirit of fiscal responsibility… maximizing the size and function of my one bedroom apartment has become a major priority of mine. Enter Pinterest. DIY ideas and inspiration now consume most of my day and I find myself fantasizing about what projects I will tackle. The difference is that I actually DO them!

I used to feel like my brain was chocked full of advice, stories, witty observations, and troubles to lament that I’d never run out of things to post about.

Have I reach a saturation point?

Have I become so dull I’m bored with myself?

No.

Actually, I’m just really focused on living right now. My life is finally starting to resemble the life of the adult I’ve been trying so hard to become.

I work hard, I volunteer, I see my friends and family, I spend as much time with my boyfriend as possible, I have hobbies, I read.

I am pumped for the holidays and desperately trying to tie up all the marking and loose ends associated with my TA gig so I can get down to the important stuff… Christmas shopping and artwork I’ve planned for presents this year.

I want to do the things I enjoy and spend time with the people I love.

I realized that by focusing on all the other less satisfying stuff has resulted in my feeling a bit spread too thin.

I want to do crafts and artistic DIY projects.

I want to cook and catch up on all the TV I’ve been missing living without cable these past 6 months.

I want to sleep in on the weekends and have nothing planned for me and my boyfriend to do besides relax and enjoy Sunday mornings “the way they are supposed to be”.

I want to have my personal trainer kick my butt so hard that I’m filled with equal parts pain and pride the next day.

So instead of blogging about nothing of consequence, or feeling guilty about not posting something at least once a week, I’m giving you a heads up and myself permission to take some time off.

The reasons I started blogging in the first place don’t seem relevant to my life right now.

It’s in my nature to be concerned about how the bills will get paid, about the results of standard medical exams, about whether the plane is going to gently soar into the skies after take off or take a screeching nose dive back onto the runway.

All this I begrudgingly lovingly refer to as my “anxiety issues”.

Generally speaking, I’m a fairly well adjusted individual. I don’t suffer from panic attacks and I get through the day without worrying that a meteor is going to fly through my office window…

But when I start thinking about the relationships and friendships I’ve built, I can get a little distracted by the health and strength of those relationships.

When I think about my family – my parents, siblings, nephews – I worry about them not always being there and I find myself responding more profoundly to stories of lost loved ones.

When I think about my future family and life milestones, I worry that the happiness that I’ve recently found could be taken away from me – that I may not get my happy ending.

When I think about job security and student debt, I feel powerless to change my situation and worry if I’ll ever be financially self-sufficient.

All this worrying is exhausting. While there are legitimate reasons to have these feelings, they cannot and should not play a significant role in your day to day life. When I feel myself starting down the path to worry and anxiety, I have taken to confronting these feelings head on…

With an old fashioned pen and paper.

These notes I write to myself, are just that. They will never see the light of day. They often don’t even survive long before they find their way to their final resting place at the bottom of the recycling bin.

Once I’ve written my worrisome thoughts out (sometimes bordering on the ridiculously melodramatic)…

I aim to distract myself.

A couple weeks ago I was at my sister’s house. She was trying to get some things together before we went to drop my car off at the repair place, and her two sons were home with her husband. The eldest is 6 years old and a truly remarkable young man already, and was behaving as such. The youngest, at nearly 3 years old, was struggling with the idea that his mom was heading out the door without him, and made that much clear to anyone in the immediate vicinity. He was upset, he wanted her attention, he was going to work himself into a tizzy at the rate that he was going. So once reasoning with him was determined to be insufficient and unsuccessful, I decided distraction was the next best thing.

How do you distract a runny nosed, pink faced, not-quite-toddler-anymore child desperately trying to be heard?

A game of wheelbarrow around the kitchen of course.

It worked. Cries were replaced with giggles and everyone was soothed for the time being.

The lesson I took from this, was that sometimes the best way to not worry about those “out-of-your-control” items, is to simply do something else instead.

Lose yourself in a book, watch a movie, cook meals for the rest of the week, clean and reorganize the apartment.

Keeping busy has taken on a completely new meaning to me in the last eight months.

Being in a quasi-long distance relationship with someone still in university has it’s challenges. Fortunately the obstacles have proved not to be insurmountable. The fact that time is precious, and time together is even more so cannot be overstated. With one person having more on their plate and more at stake than the other (academically speaking), the other’s free time seems to double.

I’ve decided that rather than sit around on the weeknights twiddling my thumbs, I would make that time count.

Whether it’s working on my ever-evolving apartment/DIY showroom, taking on a Teaching Assistant job at a university, taking an online marketing course, getting a head start on Christmas gifts, or simply spending time with family and friends, I don’t feel the hours as they slip by now.

My busyness also lends to more interesting conversations at the end of the day when the boy takes a break from studying.

By distracting myself with new projects and existing relationships I feel like I am not only keeping the anxiety at bay, but I’m (more importantly) working towards self-improvement.

Every fibre of my being is at odds with each other over wanting what I should have versus accepting that there’s no “right” way to live your life besides being a good, loving, empathetic person. Letting your life happen is hard for someone like me who wants to know how the book ends and wants to plan everything in between… but why stress over the future and miss the present?

when i was thirteen, i couldn’t wait to be eighteen. i thought i’d know it all by then- have all the answers and that prized freedom. and when i was sixteen, i planned to be married by age twenty-three with two kids. i’ll always smile to myself when i think about how time changes things. and when i turned twenty four i made a list of as many goals as i had in years. by my 25th birthday, i’d accomplished them all.

and a funny thing happens about the time you turn twenty.five. people start asking about marriage and kids and houses. and you begin to worry about savings, retirement, and health insurance. you start spending your money on plates.pots.new tires. short term sacrifices for long term gains, right? and sometimes you start to compare your 25 years with everyone else’s. you wonder if you’re on the right track because…